The Darkness Rains Upon Them
by The Desert Dancer
Summary: The Sole Survivor has turned evil, joined forces with the Institute and Nuka World Raiders, and have taken over The Commonwealth. Follow the companions, as they try to adjust to this new world. Extremely Alternate Universe; Incredibly uncomfortable subjects touched upon, and isn't for those of the faint of heart. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Codsworth

 **Welcome to the first Chapter of The Darkness Rained Upon Them (TDRUT). This story is set in a different universe to my Animal Instincts stories, and as such should basically be treated as non-canon. All I want to do is show off a truly evil Sole Survivor, and how his actions would affect the companions of the game. It's not going to be a full-length story; rather, it'll just be a series of one-shots focusing on the companions. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda. This story also contains really dark and twisted themes, and as such may offend quite a few people.**

"Ah sir, so good to see you again!" Codsworth announced, a happy tone to his voice. "I trust your journey was successful."

The Sole Survivor was stomping through the ruins of Sanctuary Hills, making a beeline straight for the Mr Handy bot. The Vault 111 native was decked out in a set of X-01 Power Armour, which he had gotten from Nuka-World. It had originally come in a pale blue colour, but the Survivor had re-painted it a dull maroon. The outfit was missing the helmet, which showed off the Survivor's face.

He had skin that was milky white, and gave him a somewhat otherworldly look. His head was completely shaved bald, but he had a thick greying beard that reached his chest. His eyes were a pale blue, that were as cold as ice. There was no mercy or compassion in those eyes; there was just the promise of oblivion. In his previous life, he had been known as Moore. But now he had many nicknames; The Overboss, The Pale Wolf, The Eater of Worlds. But he had one common nickname that was known and feared throughout The Commonwealth; Ghost.

"Somewhat, Codsworth." The Sole Survivor growled, a cold look in his eyes. "I didn't get him, but I did get a consolation prize."

Ghost gestured behind him, showing off his latest acquisition. A woman was standing a few feet away, swaying ever so slightly. Her body had several cuts and bruises, and she was currently cradling her left arm close to her chest. The entire right hand side of her face was a mess, and a slave collar was strapped to her neck. Codsworth recognized this woman as Hancock's bodyguard, Fahrenheit.

"Ah, well done sir!" Codsworth announced, a happy tone to his voice. "Shall I put her with the rest of the cattle?"

The Mr Handy had once stood against his master, fully prepared to kill him. But after a few quick adjustments to Codsworth's cybernetic brain, the robot was marching to a different tune. He could now see The Sole Survivor's vision of a better Commonwealth, one where everyone was ruled under an iron fist.

"No, she has very viable information in how to break through Goodneighbour's defences." Ghost muttered, shaking his head slowly. "A month in The Combat Zone should go and get some results. If not, I'll just give her to Mason. The man goes through more chew toys than Dogmeat…"

The bodyguard's one good eye widened in fear, as she took a few steps backwards. Ghost however seemed to sense this, as he whipped around and roughly grabbed Fahrenheit by her injured arm. Fahrenheit let out a small gasp, as her broken bones were crushed by the vice-like grip.

"Hancock had a choice, Fahrenheit." The Sole Survivor stated, a calm tone to his voice. "He could have joined us, and helped in purging The Commonwealth of filth. Instead, he chose to defy me and continually spit in the face of my people."

"Hancock stands against scum like you and your Raider buddies." Fahrenheit growled, a fiery look in her eye. "I hope you burn in hell for everything you've done, you bastard."

"Fahrenheit, it's gonna end badly for you, but it doesn't have to. All you have to do is tell me how to get through Goodneighbour's defences, and I'll let you, Hancock and however else you want go free." Ghost responded, a cold smile on his face. "You're facing defeat, Fahr, and it is inevitable. Why not manage to save what few remaining pieces you have left, instead of sticking around til the bitter end?"

"You know nothing about chess." Fahrenheit explained, a scowl on her face. "We may be losing, but that does not mean our loss is assured. By helping you out, that possibility becomes a certainty. Anyway, it's better to assuredly sacrifice one pawn than to gamble the lives of several pieces, especially if one of them is a king. You might as well kill me now, because I'm telling you nothing."

"My dear Fahr, it won't be that simple." Ghost said, a dark tone to his voice. "Mason will want to play with his new toy first, before we decide to discard you. And trust me when I say he doesn't play nicely."

 **And Chapter 1 of The Darkness Rains Upon Them is finished. Anyway, this probably isn't going to be liked by a whole lot of people; heck, even my best friend Mandalore the Freedom says he doesn't like the story. Anyway, hope you guys and gals stick around for the next Chapter.**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Dogmeat

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

"Hello, boy." Ghost muttered, a small smile on his face.

A loud barking sound filled the air, as a dog came hurtling towards The Sole Survivor. The dog looked to be quite thin, its ribs pushing hard against its skin and its body having little fat to it. But the canine let out a happy bark, as it rubbed its head alongside Ghost's leg. The Vault 111 native let out a small chuckle, as he rubbed the back of Dogmeat's head.

"I missed you too, boy." Ghost stated, a content look on his face. "I wanted to bring you, but it was way too risky; Hancock has Goodneighbour locked up pretty tightly."

Dogmeat let out a small whimper, as he wagged his tail happily. The moment was soon over however, as a loud wailing sound was heard. The Sole Survivor snapped his head up, as the sirens went off. One of the prisoners was making a break for it, a group of Pack Raiders right on the person's tail. But even from this distance Ghost could see that the prisoner wasn't going to get caught. Years of drug abuse and laziness had left most of The Pack out of shape and weak. A scowl appeared on Ghost's face, as he looked down at Dogmeat. The canine had a snarl on his face, as he stared at the fleeing prisoner.

"Go get them, boy." The Sole Survivor whispered, a cold tone to his voice.

The canine let out a single bark, before it started running. Dogmeat didn't even make a sound, as he sprinted towards the fleeing prisoner. It was blazing ahead, and soon managed to overtake the Pack Raiders. The colourful Raiders slowed down and watched in awe, as Dogmeat managed to reach the fleeing prisoner. His jaws clamped down on one of the prisoner's ankles, causing him to let out an agonised scream. The prisoner collapsed to the ground, Dogmeat's jaw still clutching tightly at the man's injured leg. Dogmeat let go, before biting down on the other ankle. The prisoner tried feebly kicking at Dogmeat, but to no avail.

"Well done, Dogmeat." Ghost muttered, before turning to look at the Pack Raiders. "Who is in charge here?"

The Pack Raiders looked at each other shiftily, before one of them walked forward. It was a short burly man, wearing a Pack elephant helmet.

"What's your name?" Ghost inquired, eyebrow raised.

"Bevalier, sir." The Pack Raider responded, a worried tone to his voice.

"If it wasn't for Dogmeat, that prisoner would have gotten away." Ghost explained, a cold look in his eyes. "And if that prisoner had escaped, you would have been executed for being incompetent. Say thank you to Dogmeat for saving your life."

"Thank you, Dogmeat." Bevalier quickly stated, nodding his head at the canine.

The Sole Survivor let out a small sigh, before he turned around and walked away. Dogmeat quickly followed by his side, blood drenching his face and a spring to his step. Ghost ignored the sounds of the prisoner begging for mercy, which quickly followed by the sound of gunfire and then pure silence.

 **And Chapter 2 of TDRUT is finished! Sorry if the Chapters are kind of small, but they'll hopefully get longer soon. Anyway, hope you stick around for Chapter 3: Preston Garvey!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Preston Garvey

 **Welcome to Chapter 3 of TDRUT. Super sorry about the extra-long wait, but life got in the way for me. I promise I'll try and make updates to this story more regular. Anyway, I hope you like this Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

"Well, greeting my friend." The Sole Survivor announced, a small smile on his face. "I hope you're comfortable."

Preston Garvey remained silent, eyes staring straight ahead. The Minuteman was currently chained to a wall, suspended off of the ground. His chest was covered in burn marks and fresh cuts and he was missing his entire left leg. There was a nasty scar stretching diagonally across his face, blinding him in his right eye.

"Now, no need to be so rude." Ghost continued, letting out a small sigh. "I do hold your life in my hands."

"Traitor!" Preston growled, venom dripping from every word.

"That's just an opinion, Preston." Ghost retorted, eyebrow raised. "You see me as a traitor, but I see myself as a saviour. I vanquished The Institute, drove off the Brotherhood of Steel and brought the Gunners to their knees. There's no more death, no more kidnappings, no more fear. I have brought peace to The Commonwealth."

"You've brought _death_ to The Commonwealth!" Preston Garvey shouted, anger evident in his tone. "You killed everyone from Far Harbor! You killed the Triggermen! You killed everyone in The Castle! You killed your son!"

Ghost rushed forward, moving faster than Preston thought was humanly possible. The Sole Survivor gripped Preston by the throat and squeezed tightly. The Minuteman let out a shocked gurgle, as the air rushed out of his lungs and he struggled to breath.

"Don't mention Shaun in front of me ever again." Ghost growled, fury blazing in his eyes. "You have no right to talk about him, you filthy cockroach!"

Ghost gave one last squeeze, before releasing his hold on Preston's throat. The Minuteman felt relief wash through his body, as he found he could breathe again.

"Preston, you disappoint me so much." The Sole Survivor muttered, shaking his head slowly. "You could have been a valuable part of the this new government."

"Don't you mean dictatorship?" Preston fired back, a scowl evident on his face. "What would ever make you think I'd join forces with Raiders!?"

"This is the future, Preston." Ghost retorted, a cold tone to his voice. "You either try and keep up, or you fall to the wayside."

"I have nothing to say to you anymore, traitor." Preston growled, looking dead ahead. "I hope you go to hell!"

"Well, looks like this is goodbye." Ghost stated, letting out a tired sigh. "But I believe that tomorrow will be a good day for you; that will be the day I execute Clint."

"A traitor executing another traitor." Preston scoffed, a dismissive tone to his voice. "Ain't that hypocritical?"

"Oh trust me, this is for my own benefit." The Sole Survivor retorted, waving away Preston's word. "Clint was the one who betrayed the Minutemen to the Gunners, and he was the one who betrayed the Gunners to me. The man is a traitor whose only allegiance is to himself and as such cannot be trusted. By tomorrow evening, Clint's head will be on a spike and I'll have weeded out another untrustworthy solider among my ranks."

 **And Chapter 3 of The Darkness Rains Upon Them is done and dusted. I'd like to thank Solivore and hopelessromantic34 for reviewing this story. Thanks a lot! Anyway, hope to see you guys and gals at Chapter 4!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Piper Wright

 **Welcome to Chapter 4 of TDRUT! Once again, sorry about the long wait. I try my damn hardest to be consistent with updates, but life always manages to screw things up. Anyway, enough about me complaining about stuff. Let's start the Chapter!**

 **I don't own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda. I wish I owned Fallout though, cause then I'd be pretty rich.**

Piper Wright, former native of Diamond City and public enemy of the new Commonwealth government, stood at the edge of The Commonwealth. She watched as the caravan disappeared over the horizon, taking with it the only person she cared about anymore in this world. The reporter fought back the flood of tears threatening to happen, as a feeling of emptiness built up within her chest.

"You made the right choice, Piper." A familiar voice stated, a despondent tone evident. "Nat deserves to live a better life."

The reporter whipped around and aimed her snub-nosed .44 pistol at the person who had ruined not only her life, but everyone she knew. The Sole Survivor stood about a foot away, a sad smile evident on his face and hands raised in the air. He wasn't wearing his trademark Power Armour, which Piper found surprising. Instead, he was wearing military fatigues and a full set Heavy Combat Armour, minus the helmet.

"Piper, let's be calm about this." Ghost said, looking into Piper's eyes. "This doesn't have to end in a bloodbath."

"Screw you." Piper retorted, before pulling the trigger.

Ghost quickly moved out of the way, moving faster than Piper though could be humanly possible. The Vault 111 native then charged towards Piper, knocking her to the ground. The reporter fell onto the hard floor with a dull _thud_ , pain shooting through every part of her body. Her .44 pistol went skittering across the ground, going out of arm's reach. Piper looked up, and came face to face with the barrel of a Laser Pistol. Even though it had been ages, she recognized the weapon. It was Righteous Authority, the Laser Pistol that was the pride and joy of Paladin Danse.

"I could kill you right now, you know." Ghost muttered, a cold look in his pale blue eyes. "A shot to the head with a Laser Pistol, from this length? Impossible to survive."

"Well go ahead and do it." Piper growled, venom dripping from every word. "You've already ruined The Commonwealth and any chance it had for redemption! So go ahead and kill me, like the thousands of other people you've killed!"

The Sole Survivor just stood there silently, Righteous Authority still aimed between Piper's eyes. Seconds seemed to stretch into infinity, as the reporter waited for her inevitable end. After what seemed like an eternity, Ghost let out a frustrated grunt before lowering his weapon. Sorrow was evident in his eyes, as he looked down at Piper.

"I…..can't do it." Ghost muttered, shaking his head sadly. "Not after everything we've been through."

"You destroyed The Minutemen and The Railroad incredibly easily, and betrayed all of your friends." Piper fired back, glaring at her former friend. "What makes me so damn special?"

"Because you were there when it mattered." Ghost explained, holstering his weapon. "You were there for me when I put a gun in my mouth and was ready to end it all. You were there for me when I came face to face with Kellogg, the bastard that ruined my life. You were always there to fix me up when I broke down. You showed me that there's still light in this dark future, Piper."

"And yet you're the one who ushered in this dark future." Piper retorted, fury evident in her voice. "Raiders are running The Commonwealth! The Institute has won, and any opposition is removed! This isn't a government; it's a dictatorship, and you're running it!"

"And look at all I have accomplished." Ghost answered, dusting himself off. "The Gunners are no more; they have been broken and are no longer a threat. The Institute are no longer kidnapping people, and are focusing on technology that can better mankind. The Super Mutants are kept under control and are no longer a hazard. People don't have to live in fear, anymore."

"As long as they accept you as their benevolent god." Piper growled, tears running down her cheeks. "You ruined everything, Ghost. I loved you, you bastard! How can I love someone who brings death and destruction wherever they go?"

"I care about you too, Piper." Ghost whispered, kneeling to meet Piper at eye level. "I want you to be by my side, as my queen. I'll give you everything and anything you want. We'll spend the rest of our lives together, making each other happy. Piper, you are my humanity. You are what prevents me from being consumed by darkness, and turning into filth like Nisha and Mason. I need you, Piper Wright."

Ghost extended his hand, offering it to the reporter. Piper looked into The Sole Survivor's eyes, an undecipherable look on her face. After a few moments, Wright gave Ghost a sad smile before rushing towards him. Caught by surprise, Ghost went tumbling to the ground as Piper quickly stood up, somehow managing to grab hold of Righteous Authority. The Laser Pistol was now in Piper's hands, and was being aimed at Ghost. The Sole Survivor didn't say or do anything; he merely just sat there, waiting for her to shoot.

Tears streaming down her face, Piper slowly shook her head. She mouthed the words _I love you_ , before pulling the Laser Pistol on herself and pulling on the trigger. Ghost just sat there stunned, as he watched his last hope for redemption collapse to the ground dead. Smoke poured off of what remained of her face, the smell of burnt flesh polluting the air. The Vault 111 native slowly stood up, before walking towards the dead corpse of Piper Wright.

Ghost could feel the poison and darkness within himself grow and expand, as he stood there silently. It spread and polluted the last scrap of mercy and humanity he had within himself. The sad part was, he didn't even try to fight it. He allowed himself to become even more broken and dark than before. The Sole Survivor turned around and made the trek towards Sanctuary Hills, having finally allowed himself fully to the dark side.

 **And Chapter 4 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to give a big thanks to Solivore, for showing me how much he appreciates this story. Thanks a lot, mate! I'd also like to thank Morese for reviewing. Anyway, see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Robert Joseph MacCready

 **Welcome to Chapter 5 of TDRUT, my wonderful readers. The response to this story has been incredibly positive so far, and that definitely makes me happy :) Anyway, enough about me. Let's start the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, but I'd really like to own it. Bethesda owns Fallout, and they don't like to share.**

The Sole Survivor was on top of the hill leading to Vault 111, the place that he had called home for 200 years. He stared out into the distance, flashbacks appearing before him. He remembered the fear coursing through his veins, as he rushed towards the supposed safety of the Vault. He remembered seeing the atomic bomb going off in the distance and remembered feeling the heat rushing towards him. He remembered Nora, his sweet beloved Nora, smiling at him before being locked inside of those frozen chambers. The Sole Survivor was so engrossed in his memories, that he didn't even notice someone else had arrived until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Ghost slowly turned around, and came face to face with possibly the cruellest Raider in The Commonwealth. He wore a dirty grey singlet and a necklace of bones, with his face painted in vivid colours and patterns. An unhinged grin was plastered on his face and he had the eyes of a predator constantly hunting for prey. This was Mason, leader of The Pack.

"Just got word about where that bastard MacCready is." Mason answered, fixing up his orange hair. "He's currently trying to make a break for it by travelling with a caravan. Traveling to D.C., apparently."

"Anything else?" Ghost inquired, a neutral tone to his voice.

"Yeah, rumour is he's traveling with a little kid." Mason continued, nodding his head. "My informant says it's the kid brat of that reporter from Diamond City. Ripper, or whatever her name was."

"It was Piper." Ghost muttered, as the events of today played back in his mind.

"What, Boss?" Mason asked, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Mason." Ghost growled, venom dripping from every word.

"Suit yourself, Boss." Mason answered, the grin on his face growing even wider. "So, should I send out a squad of my men?"

"What would be the point?" Ghost pondered, staring out into the distance. "We'd be wasting valuable men, time and effort to merely catch one mercenary whose biggest crime was that he spoke out against me. No, let him flee to the Capital Wastelands and hide there like a coward. We have bigger problems to concern ourselves with, like Hancock."

"Is it really cause of that, or cause of the kid?" Mason asked, a sneer appearing on his face. "Boss, I think you're getting soft on me."

Before The Pack Leader even realised what was happening, he found himself laying on his back, with The Sole Survivor laying on top of him. A knife was placed on his throat, a thin trickle of blood dripping onto the floor. Mason let out a small grunt, as he looked into Ghost's pale blue eyes.

There was something peaceful about The Sole Survivor's eyes, but it wasn't the calming kind of peaceful. It wasn't a peaceful that comforted you and made you feel safe. It was another kind of peaceful, the kind that promised you no more pain, no more joy, no more anything. Looking at him was like looking into a void with no beginning and no ending. Oblivion. A frown appeared on Mason's face as a strange feeling welled up within his chest. It was a feeling he had never felt before; it was fear.

"Listen closely, Mason. I am in a very foul mood, and I don't feel like repeating myself." Ghost said slowly, his voice as cold as ice. "You seem to be under the delusion that we are equals, that we stand on the same footing. You couldn't be more wrong about that. In terms of importance, the gap between you and a Bloatfly is smaller than the gap between you and I. I may view the uneducated masses as being cockroaches, but you? You're just a slightly bigger cockroach."

Ghost let out a frustrated grunt before standing up, still boring holes into Mason's skull. The Pack Leader slowly got up, wary about what The Sole Survivor was going to do next.

"Do you have anything else you wish to tell me, or is that all?" Ghost inquired, as he turned around to watch the sun set.

"We haven't managed to break that Railroad girl yet." Mason muttered, putting a hand to the cut to his neck. "She's proving to be one tough bitch."

"I could have told you that about Glory." Ghost responded, not even looking at Mason. "Any good news?"

"We've captured Desdemona." Mason answered, a smirk appearing on his face. "Bitch was trying to smuggle some synths outta The Commonwealth. Brought those synths back to The Institute, and the Railroad bitch is currently in chains."

"Something positive, at least." The Sole Survivor responded, letting out a tired sigh. "We shall head to Diamond City with Glory and Desdemona first thing in the morning. Hopefully we can draw out Deacon and capture him. If not, it'll be a good demonstration of why you shouldn't stand up to The Institute."

"Gotcha, boss." Mason answered, nodding his head.

"Now leave me, Mason." Ghost muttered, a cold tone to his voice. "And If you think of questioning my intestinal fortitude again, I won't hesitate to gut you like a fish and crush your skull with my bare hands. Do we understand each other?"

 **And Chapter 5 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to thank Solivore, for being incredibly supportive of this story. I'd also like to thank hopelessromantic34, for reviewing this story and giving me ideas for future Chapters! Thanks a lot hopelessromantic34, you really helped me out of a tough spot! Anyway, hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Nick Valentine

 **I do not own Fallout, and that makes me sad. Bethesda owns Fallout, and will continue to do so for many years to come.**

The Sole Survivor was currently standing in the middle of Valentine's Agency, going through some of the synth detective's case files. Ghost wasn't alone in the room, however. X6-88 stood guard at the door, hand on his trusty weapon. Nisha was sitting on a bed, examining her collection of knives with intense interest. William Black was at a terminal, playing some holotape game that Ghost had found. Mason was leaning against a wall, looking beyond bored. Mags Black was sitting at Ellie Perkin's desk, helping out Ghost by sorting out the case files in neat piles.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Mason grumbled, a scowl on his painted face.

"Work, Mason. I'm doing work here." Ghost muttered, not looking up from the current file he was reading. "Would anyone care to take a guess on why we are here?"

Everyone lifted their heads at that question, before looking at each other. A tense silence quickly filled the air, as they tried to figure out the answer to The Sole Survivor's questions. After what seemed like an eternity, Mags lifted her hand up.

"Well, you seem to have a vested interest in all the missing persons cases this Valentine had." Mags answered slowly, a wary tone to her voice. "My guess would be that The Institute was involved in some of these disappearances, and you're sorting through them?"

Ghost didn't automatically respond to this, causing Mags to feel intense fear. She quickly looked over to her brother, who had the same expression of fear on his face. To the surprise of everyone in the room, a small smile appeared on Ghost's face. The smile made him look younger somehow, as if some of the stress and pain he had suffered in his life had melted away. The smile quickly disappeared however, and was replaced by The Sole Survivor's usually neutral face.

"That would be most correct, Mags." Ghost responded, nodding his head. "If I can solve at least some of these cases, it would prove to the general public that this new government of mine isn't one to be feared, but rather accepted. We'd be proving that we care about the common folk, and are willing to help out."

"I don't see the point, Boss." Nisha growled, shaking her head in disgust. "Why can't we just skin a few people? That'd show those meatbags out there that we mean business."

"Sometimes it's better to hold a hand than to slap it, Nisha." Ghost explained, eyebrow raised. "Striking fear into the hearts of the populace would be tremendously effective, but only in the short-term. Soon, people will grow tired of living in constant fear and will wish to rebel so they can live better lives. And when those few do rise up, more and more people will join them until we are dragged out onto the streets and lynched. No, my method is the best way to proceed."

Nisha and Mason stared at The Sole Survivor, looks of disbelief evident on both of their faces. Well, Mason's at least since Nisha was wearing a helmet. Mags looked on and struggle to hide a smile, as she saw the Overboss put her fellow Raider Leaders in their places.

"Well, I can see that everyone being here asking for trouble." Ghost continued, letting out a small sigh. "Nisha and Mason, go outside and prepare for my plan to capture Deacon. And I will reiterate once again; Desdemona is not to be harmed or abused in any way, shape or form. If I hear that even one hair on her head was touched, you shall be forced to deal with me. Understood?"

Nisha and Mason let out frustrated grunts, as they got up and exited the office. X6-88 moved out of the way for the two Raiders, not exchanging a single word or gesture with either of them. The Sole Survivor watched the two exit, before letting out a tired grunt and collapsing into the nearest chair. Mags and William exchanged uneasy looks, not quite sure on where things were going.

"I want the two of you to know something, and this must never leave this room." Ghost muttered to the Blacks, an exhausted tone to his voice. "Besides X6-88, you two are the only ones in my inner circle that I trust. Nisha and Mason are both animals with intense bloodlust, that have no qualms about torturing people. Most of the idiots in The Institute have no understanding of how the Wastelands work, and would flounder without my guidance. Tessa and Baker only care if they get their caps, and would turn on us in a second if it benefited them. What I'm trying to say is that the only people I trust are all in this room."

Mags and William sat there, quite stunned by what they had just heard. X6-88 just merely nodded his head, before resuming his guard in front of the door. Ghost looked over to Mags, a tired look in his pale blue eyes.

"It has been a while since I have stepped into this room." Ghost admitted, shaking his head sadly. "The last time I was in here, I was forced to kill a friend. He had heard what had happened to The Minutemen, and was none too pleased. I entered here, wishing to talk to my friend. Instead, we got into a heated argument that ended with him pulling a gun on me. I had to end his life, and it's the one killing that I always regret committing."

"I'm….sorry to hear that, Boss." Mags muttered, a frown on her face.

"Yeah, really sorry." William added, nodding his head.

"Nick Valentine was a good man, a hero even. But that was what lead to his downfall." Ghost responded, getting up from his chair. "Heroes don't belong in The Wastelands and expect to live. Only monsters and villains can expect to thrive in this godforsaken hellhole."

 **And Chapter 6 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to thank Solivore and hopelessromantic34 for being awesome fans and constantly helping me out with this story. Thank you two so much! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Deacon

 **I'd like to preface this Chapter by saying that I did not come up with the idea for this Chapter, as much I wanted to. hopelessromantic34 pitched this idea to me, as well as a few others. Thank you once again, for helping me out with this story! I'd also like to say that there are some pretty dark themes in this Chapter, so watch out for that. Anyway, let's begin the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, otherwise I wouldn't be writing Fanfics. Bethesda owns Fallout, and most likely will for many years to come.**

The Sole Survivor was standing in the middle of a wooden stage, wearing his signature Power Armour. The entire of Diamond City was looking on, wary looks on all of their faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Diamond City, I wish you welcome!" Ghost announced, his voice reverberating through the entire town. "You all know me, and I would like to hope that I know all of you. All of you know what has happened in the past year, and there's no need to deny it. Yes, I did join The Institute and become the new Director. You may hate me for that, after everything The Institute has done. But let us look at the positives! Medicine has become more advanced and fewer people are dying. Super Mutants and Gunners are worries of the past. If I may say so, we are living in an age of peace. However, several people do not see my vision."

Ghost looked to his left and nodded his head. Two Pack Raiders appeared on stage, dragging Glory in front of the Vault 111 native. The Railroad agent didn't have a single stitch of clothing on her, showing off her nude body for all to see. Bruises and cuts were scattered across her skin, all looking incredibly brand new, with the majority of them appearing on her breasts and genitals. She was missing most of the fingers on her left hand, and the entire right side of her face was bloodied beyond belief. Of all the Raider gangs to be capture by, The Pack definitely were the worst, especially if you were a woman.

"Glory here is one of these people." Ghost continued, gesturing to the injured Railroad agent. "When I expelled The Brotherhood of Steel from The Commonwealth and took down the traitorous Minutemen, I could have just gone and destroyed The Railroad. But I did not do that! Instead, I offered them peace. I offered them the chance to join forces with me. Instead of accepting, they threw away that olive branch and proceeded to attack my home! It was a foolish gesture, but it was one that I doubted the majority agreed on. So for every Railroad agent that was capture, I offered them the chance to join me."

Ghost turned around and looked Glory in her one good eye. Pure, unadulterated fury was blazing in her eye, as a snarl was plastered on her face. The Sole Survivor didn't even seem fazed by the woman's reaction. Instead, he looked somewhat amused.

"Glory, do you wish to join me in making The Commonwealth a sparkling jewel of this horrid Wasteland?" Ghost asked, extending his hand.

"Go to hell, bastard!" Glory shouted, spitting in his face.

A tense silence filled the air, as the crowd held their breath. Something was going to happen to Glory, and it was going to be something really bad. Ghost silently wiped away the spit on his face, before looking at Glory. He shrugged his shoulders once, before brandishing a gun. It was a pistol that had a blue-ish tinge to it, once belonging to a mercenary called Kellogg. He aimed the gun at Glory's head and pressed down on the trigger.

Blood and gore went flying everywhere, as Glory's head exploded into little bloody chunks. The front row got splattered with bits of gunk, causing a few people to vomit. The Railroad agent's headless corpse collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath it. Ghost let out a tired sigh, before nodding his head again. Two more Pack Raiders appeared on stage, this time dragging Desdemona on stage. The Railroad leader looked quite fine, except for a horrified look as she saw Glory's corpse.

"Desdemona, I offer you the same choice." Ghost announced, looking over at the Railroad leader. "You can join us, or suffer the fate all traitors do. But you will know what pain is first, as you are handed over to Mason and his Pack."

"I'll never join you." Desdemona responded, a firm tone to her voice.

Before The Sole Survivor could even respond to this, he heard the sounds of a scuffle from the crowd. Ghost whipped his head around, eyes scanning the group of people. A man was rushing towards the stage, knocking over whoever got into his path. Even though he was wearing a layer of dirt and clothes belonging to a hobo, Ghost knew that it was Deacon.

"Welcome, old friend!" Ghost announced, as Deacon arrived on the stage. "I was wondering what had happened to you!"

"Let Des go, and I'll do whatever you want." Deacon answered, hands in the air. "Just please, don't hurt her."

"I should have guessed you'd like Des." Ghost responded, shaking his head slowly. "I will make you a deal; you tell me how to enter Goodneighbour, and I will let you and Desdemona go. You can travel to the D.C Wastelands, or maybe make the trek to New Vegas. Just never return here, or else you shall be hunted down and killed."

Deacon just stood there, a defiant look in his eyes. This went on for a few seconds, before the Railroad spy visibly deflated. A small sense of satisfaction filled Ghost, as he saw how broken his former friend looked.

"Alright, I'll tell you." Deacon muttered, a defeated tone to his voice. "You've won, Ghost."

 **And Chapter 7 of TDRUT is done and dusted! This Chapter got really dark, didn't it? Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at Chapter 8, where we will finally meet Hancock!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Hancock

 **I'm incredibly sorry about how long this story is taking; it's just life is being an absolute bitch, and I just can't seem to find the time to sit down and write anymore. Anyway, I hope all of my readers enjoy this Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, and I most likely never will. Bethesda owns Fallout, and probably will for many years to come.**

Hancock rested at a chair, a tired feeling in his chest. All the lights in the room had been turned off, swallowing the area in complete darkness. The sounds of guns firing could be heard in the background, as chaos and anarchy descended on Goodneighbour. He didn't know how, but someone told The Sole Survivor how to break through the settlement's defence systems.

The Ghoul Mayor took of his hat and wiped the sweat off of his irradiated head, as he waited for the inevitable. The door to the building was suddenly kicked in, as a horde of Pack Raiders came swarming in. They all pointed their guns right at Hancock, who hadn't even moved an inch. A new man then entered the room; he had a brightly painted face, and a Super Sledge clutched tightly in his hands. The Ghoul Mayor knew that this was Mason, leader of The Pack.

"Well if it ain't Hancock, the Ghoul traitor." Mason announced, a smug tone to his voice.

"And if it ain't Mason, the Sole Survivor's favourite bitch." Hancock fired back, a scowl evident on his irradiated face. "How does it feel to no longer be the top dog?"

The Pack leader's eyes began blazing with annoyance, as a frown appeared on his face. Mason let out an annoyed grunt, before the smile re-appeared on his painted face.

"Think you're funny, Ghoul?" Mason growled, a predator-like tone to his voice. "Let's see how funny you are when I peel your radioactive skin off."

"Intimidating, ain't ya?" The Ghoul Mayor answered, letting out a small grunt. "Not even interested about how few people were defending the city?"

"Don't know, don't care." Mason answered, as he slowly walked forward.

"I got an advanced warning about the attack, by a few of my informants." Hancock interrupted, apparently not caring about Mason's answer. "I sent everyone out except for a few loyalists. They went out by a secret tunnel in The Third Rail; it leads through the subways and will take them far away from Goodneighbour. They'll then hopefully make their way towards the D.C. Wastelands, where MacCready and a few other rebels are setting up a stronghold."

"Fascinating stuff, Ghoul." Mason muttered, an impatient look on his painted face. "But what's the point of telling me this shit?"

The Ghoul Mayor let out a tired chuckle, before leaning over and turning on the lights. The room was flooded with brightness, temporarily blinding most of the Pack Raiders. Mason then noticed the room they were in. The entire floor was covered in some kind of liquid that Mason automatically deduced to be gasoline. Mines of all different types also littered the floor, with most of them lying at Hancock's chair. Mason's eyes went wide with shock, as he figured out the Ghoul's plan.

"All it takes is for this place to go, and the entire city will burn." Hancock announced, a dark grin on his irradiated face. "And I'll happily send a few Raiders to hell."

"You'd willing kill yourself and your guards just to take us out?" Mason asked, clutching at his Super Sledge incredibly tightly.

"I'd rather have my people die here and now then be tortured, raped and God knows what else for months on end." Hancock fired back, a resolute tone to his voice. "I told them what was gonna happen, and they still stuck by me."

"…The Sole Survivor fucking knew this would happen." Mason muttered, as it finally dawned on him. "That's why he just sent The Pack."

"Sounds like Ghost alright; playing chess with human lives." Hancock answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, I'm done talking. Can't wait to see you guys in hell."

Before anyone could respond, Hancock reached into his jacket and pulled out a Pipe Pistol. Mason figured out what the Ghoul Mayor was gonna do, as he ordered for his Pack to start shooting Hancock down. Guns were already firing before the words left Mason's mouth, bullets entering into Hancock's body. Letting out a scream and fighting through the pain, Hancock aimed the Pistol at the ground and fired it at a Pulse Mine. The last thing Hancock saw was the floor starting to catch fire, before he breathed his last breath and collapsing into his chair.

* * *

Ghost and the rest of his inner circle watched on as Goodneighbour burnt to the ground. They had been standing outside, waiting for Mason and his group, when the city had suddenly burst into flames. Most of the group was surprised by this, but not Ghost; the Vault 111 native looked on with a cool calculated look. Mags Black turned around to look at her Overboss, a frown evident on her face.

"You knew this was gonna happen." Mags stated, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question.

"I had a niggling suspicion something like this would happen, yes." The Sole Survivor admitted, nodding his head. "I knew Hancock wouldn't just lie down and let us destroy his city; he'd rather destroy it and take out as many people as people. That is why I sent Mason first, because either way would have been beneficial for me. If nothing had happened, then Mason would easily have killed Hancock and we'd have crushed our biggest enemy. If something did happen, then our biggest enemy would still have been crushed, but with the added bonus of getting rid of Mason."

"You didn't trust Mason?" Nisha inquired, an interested tone to her voice.

"The man was a savage beast leading a pack of rabid dogs." Ghost answered, contempt evident in his voice. "There's only one thing to do with rabid animals, and that's put them down."

 **And Chapter 8 of TDRUT is done and dusted! I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Curie

 **Sorry about the long wait, my loyal readers. I've just been really busy with life, and haven't had much time to sit down and write. Anyway, let's start the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, and I most likely never will. Fallout is owned by Bethesda, and probably will be for many years to come.**

"Monsieur, how on Earth did this happen to you?" Curie muttered, worry evident to her voice.

The Sole Survivor was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, a scowl etched deeply into his face. His shirt was taken off, showing off his muscular chest. Deep scars and burn marks littered every inch of his pale skin, giving viewers a rough idea of just how many battles Ghost had participated in. However, Curie's eyes were focused on his wounds. A fresh burn mark stretched across his stomach, the skin looking bubbly and red. The French Synth felt physically ill, as she looked at the wound. While she was used to tending to wounds and illnesses, it was always hard for her to see her friends injured and hurt.

"That bastard Slag tried to kill me; had a whole squad of his Forged jump me." Ghost muttered, fury evident to his voice. "X6 and I took out his minions with ease, but not before Slag got a lucky shot in. Stabbed me with that Shishkebab sword before I managed to blow his brains out."

"Always resorting to violence." Curie muttered, shaking her head sadly. "Can things not be settled peacefully?"

"Peace doesn't exist; at least, not in this world." Ghost stated, a steely gaze in his eyes. "The concept of peace died along with the rest of the world when the bombs dropped. All that exists is survival of the fittest; only the smartest and the strongest survive in this environment, while the weak are weeded out. It's a sad truth, but it is the truth."

Curie just felt a sad sigh escape her lips, as she looked over at her friend. She had constantly disapproved of Ghost's methods, believing them to be too brutal and cruel. Just once, Curie would have liked to see the Vault 111 native take the peaceful option when dealing with people.

"My dear Curie, you utterly confuse me." The Sole Survivor stated, frowning at his friend. "Why do you stay here with me, when you disagree with my methods and disapprove of the way I handle things? You've always had the option to leave and yet you have never taken it. Why is that, I wonder?"

"You are my friend, Monsieur." Curie answered, as she sat down next to Ghost. "Friends do not abandon each other because of disagreements; they stick together and try to compromise. I care deeply for you Monsieur because deep down, I know there is a kind man."

"You're mistaken." Ghost replied, a clipped tone to his voice. "Any semblance of kindness I once had died the moment I saw my wife killed in front of me."

"But that is not true, Ghost." Curie said, a smile appearing on her face. "You were the one that helped Monsieur MacCready find a cure for his son, correct? And didn't you help Miss Cait with her Chem addiction? And were you not the one that taught me to dance, despite your embarrassment at knowing that particular skill?"

"And didn't you promise not to bring up that last one?" Ghost grumbled, eyebrow raised.

"Being kind isn't a weakness, Monsieur." Curie stated, letting out a small chuckle. "It just shows that we are human. And is being human really that unappealing, that you'd rather be perceived as a machine; cold and unfeeling?"

The Sole Survivor sat silently on his bed, a thoughtful look appearing on his face. The French Synth gave her friend a quick hug, before reaching into her pockets and producing Stimpacks. She injected them into Ghost's wounded stomach, causing the Vault 111 native to let out an annoyed grunt.

"That wound should heal in about three days." Curie continued, as she got up from the bed. "If you feel any discomfort or the wound hasn't healed in three days, please come and see me immediately. And please, think about what we have talked about."

"I'll try, Curie." Ghost responded, letting out a tired sigh.

 **And Chapter 9 is done and dusted. I'd like to thank Alexeij for being an amazing reviewer and helping me out with this story. Thanks a lot, mate! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Cait

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

Mags Black surveyed her surroundings, a frown evident on her face. Makeshift ramps and seating stretched out as far as the eye could see, with a giant metallic cage placed on the giant stage in front. Two fighters were currently inside of the cage, one a Ghoul and the other a Brotherhood Scribe, beating each other to within an inch of their lives. Raiders from all walks of life, be they from the Commonwealth or Nuka World, filled the bleachers and cheered on.

The leader of the Operators watched on as the Ghoul took down the Scribe and knocked him to the ground. The Ghoul kept on punching the fallen Scribe, til he was inches away from unconsciousness. Someone, Mags couldn't tell who, then threw a hammer into the cage. The Ghoul looked down at the object, before picking it up and smashing the hammer into the Scribe's skull.

A feeling of intense nausea swept over Mags, as she watched the Scribe's skull cave in and blood went flying everywhere. Mags wasn't used to things like this; she was used to order, control, sterility. This was…...ugly. This was humanity at its most feral; raw, hungry and a lust for death. But then again, what else did she expect from a place constantly frequented by Nisha and her Disciples?

"Not a fan of blood-sports?" A voice behind her asked, interest evident in the tone. "Can't say I blame you; it's an acquired taste."

Ghost walked forward, wearing his trademark X-01 Power Armour and ice-cold glare. For some reason unfathomable to Mags, she had been requested by Ghost to accompany her to the Combat Zone. Before Mags could answer the Overboss's question, a new figure made an appearance.

Wearing her leather corset and taped wrists, it wasn't hard to spot Cait in a crowd. The Irish fighter had a massive grin on her face, as she looked over at her old friend. The smile dimmed somewhat, when she looked over at Mags.

"Bringing more trash into my home, Ghost?" Cait asked, eyebrow raised. "The Raiders you've already brought are more than enough to deal with."

"Mags is her on business, Cait." The Sole Survivor answered, nodding his head. "And trust me, she's definitely not interested in anything the Combat Zone has to offer."

"Ain't surprised on that one." Cait stated, as she looked Mags up and down. "Girl looks like a right softie; probably doesn't have a single callus on her hands."

A frown appeared on Mags' face as she listened to the Irish fighter's words. What the hell had she done to this woman to deserve such treatment?

"You said something 'bout business?" Cait continued, turning to look at Ghost.

"I'd like to purchase that Ghoul fighter there." Ghost answered, pointing at the cage. "I've seen him dominate these past two months, and he would definitely be a welcome addition to my army."

"You wanna buy Big Nelson's contract?" Cait inquired, eyebrow raised. "That ain't my department; I'm here to keep these crazy bastards in line. You'd want Tommy for all the paperwork shite."

"And why'd you bring Little Miss Prissy here?" Cait asked, gesturing towards Mags. "Needed someone to fuck during your trip?"

Mags hands bawled into tight fists, as he glared holes into the Irish fighter. Who the hell was this bitch to make fun of her?! Mags felt a weight placed on her shoulder, holding her back; she didn't have to turn around to know whose hand that belonged to.

"Cait, behave please." Ghost stated, a firm tone to his voice. "I know you have a low opinion on slavers, but let's not let that get in the way of business; how much for Nelson?"

"Ain't my fucking department Ghost, as I've told you." Cait growled, eyes blazing with anger. "Ain't a fucking slaver, as you damn well know. Ask Tommy, or that Disciple bitch Nisha about shit like that."

"I'll be sure to do that then." Ghost answered, before turning around and making his way to Tommy's office.

The leader of the Operators was about to follow suit, before she felt something grab onto her arm. Turning around, Mags found herself face to face with Cait. The Irish fighter had a furious look in her eyes, as she stared down the Raider Boss.

"Listen her softie, cause I'm only gonna say this once." Cait growled, anger evident in her tone. "You better not getting any ideas with Ghost, or I'll personally gut you."

"I beg your pardon?" Mags inquired, a frown evident to her face.

"Don't play dumb here." Cait answered, her grip on Mags's arm growing tighter. "I've seen the way you've looked at Ghost; like a love-sick mutt. Fuck, I can practically smell how wet your cunt is when you're around him."

"You vulgar druggie." Mags fired back, having finally lost all patience. "Let me go right now, or I'll personally drag you back to Nuka World and have you become another test subject for Lizzie."

"I'm only doing this cause I care 'bout Ghost." Cait answered, a defiant tone to her voice. "The loss of his wife broke him, and then Piper dying…..that very nearly fucking killed him. He doesn't need to get into another relationship right now, especially with a slaver bitch."

"You are a lunatic; I don't care for Ghost in that way." Mags stated, ripping her arm from Cait's grip. "Now leave me alone, before I get violent."

* * *

The journey back to Sanctuary Hills was filled with a tense silence. Mags was still fuming over her encounter with Cait and Ghost had been lost in his thoughts for the entire trip. Big Nelson didn't say a word, on account of his tongue having been ripped out.

"Did something happen at the Combat Zone, Mags?" Ghost inquired, breaking the silence. "You seem preoccupied by something."

"It's nothing, Boss." Mags answered, shaking her head slowly. "Just thinking about things."

The Vault 111 native just raised an eyebrow, before the journey continued on in tense silence. Mags walked next to Ghost for a little while, before letting out a small sigh and turning to face him.

"Excuse me Boss, but I'm still kind of confused." Mags stated, a hesitant tone evident to her voice. "Why exactly did you bring me with you?"

"Two reasons, actually." Ghost answered, looking straight ahead. "Reason one was because a back-up would be needed when transporting my latest acquisition home, in the off-chance someone attacks me or Nelson here decides to do a runner. You are someone that I can trust, and as such that is why I wanted to bring you. The second reason is because I enjoy talking to you."

"You enjoy talking to me?" Mags inquired, eyes wide with surprise.

"You are someone with whom I can have intelligent conversations with and you have proven yourself to be nothing but loyal to my cause." Ghost explained, a firm tone to his voice. "You are someone I trust, but most importantly, you are someone whose company I like. I…..consider you a friend, Mags."

"Um, thank you Boss." Mags replied, a stunned look on her face.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept that factoid to yourself." Ghost continued, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "What I've just told you is something you should keep to yourself; I'd be greatly displeased if I find out you told others."

"I promise you, Boss." Mags answered, nodding her head.

"Mags, you may call me Ghost." The Sole Survivor answered, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "But only in private; I don't want Nisha and William to find out I give you preferential treatment."

 **And Chapter 10 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to give a massive thanks to Alexeij, for being an amazing reviewer. Thanks a lot, mate :) Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: OId Longfellow

 **Hey there, loyal readers. Welcome to Chapter 11 of TDRUT! For those of you wondering why I'm already writing a DLC Companion…..well, I have my reasons ;) Anyway, let's start the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

"Goddamn Fog." Old Longfellow wheezed, clutching at his chest. "Shit's gonna be the death of me…."

The Far Harbor native sat down on a chair, getting a moment's rest. He had done another search around The Island, to see if there were any other survivors. And once again, the only other people left alive were those Robobrains in that Vault.

As he let out a small sigh, he looked out of the window to his cabins. The Fog Condensers might be flickering a bit, but they were still going strong. During the insanity that was the aftermath of the Purging of Acadia, Old Longfellow had managed to get some generators over to his cabin and jury-rigged the whole Condenser system. Unfortunately, the rest of The Island wasn't so lucky….

Old Longfellow was so concentrated on his trip down memory lane, that he hadn't even heard the door opening. As he heard someone coughing behind him, a frown appeared on the old man's face; he knew who it was before he even turned around.

"How long has it been since you've set foot on this Island, cap'n?" Old Longfellow announced, his voice reverberating throughout the small cabin. "Half a year?"

"Seven and a half months, actually." The Sole Survivor answered, as he walked in front of Old Longfellow. "I'd say that I'm surprised that you're still living, but that would be a lie. If there was one person on this Island that could have survived The Purge, it'd be you."

"So what took you so long, then?" Longfellow inquired, anger evident to his tone. "Hoping some Crawler would come and snuff me out, so you wouldn't have to do your own dirty work?"

"I've actually been busy setting up a new government back home in The Commonwealth." Ghost explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "Putting down revolutions, conquering new lands, setting up a capital in Diamond City. This is the first time in ages that I have had some free time, and instead of relaxing at home, I'm here hunting you down."

"Well, aren't I just flattered?" Longfellow muttered, a frown on his face. "How did you know that I survived, anyway?"

"Actually, I didn't know for sure." Ghost answered, as he sat down at a chair. "It was merely a hunch on my part. Luckily for me, that hunch was correct."

"And unluckily for me, since you're here to snuff me out." Longfellow responded, eyebrow raised.

"Let's just say I hate to leave any loose ends." The Sole Survivor stated, a cold smile appearing on his face. "And your survival? That's quite a large loose end."

"By how much you're gabbing, I'm gonna die of boredom." Longfellow fired back, rolling his eyes. "Just shoot me and put me outta my misery."

"But aren't you interested in learning exactly why I killed everyone on this Island?" Ghost inquired, an interested tone to his voice. "Wouldn't you want to know why I just arrived on this Island one day and slaughtered every man, woman and synth in my path?"

"You killed everyone I knew, cap'n." Longfellow answered, a grim look on his face. "I don't want to hear any damn explanations for why you did it; all I need to know is that you're an evil, cruel son of a bitch."

The Vault 111 native looked over at the elderly man, before letting out a small sigh. He then produced his trusty Gauss Rifle, before placing it on his lap. Old Longfellow's eyes momentarily shifted to the weapon, before re-focusing itself on Ghost's face.

"I'll make this quick and painless, Longfellow." Ghost stated, offering the old man a small smile. "You deserve that much."

"Mighty fine of you, cap'n." Old Longfellow responded, nodding his head. "Guess you aren't as much-"

Whatever Old Longfellow was going to say would remain a mystery as he bolted out of his chair and rushed towards Ghost, a shiny object glittering in his hands. The Sole Survivor tried to stand up and fire his Gauss Rifle, but Longfellow proved to quick; he slashed the object across Ghost's forehead, causing him to stagger backwards. The Vault 111 native connected with his chair, causing both to fall to the ground.

"Take this, you bastard!" Old Longfellow shouted, fury evident to his tone. "I'm gonna take you down to Hell with me!"

Blood began pouring down Ghost's face, temporarily clouding his vision. Ghost tried to fight through the pain, as he clutched Longfellow's arm tightly. The elderly man let out a scream of pain, as his radius and ulna were broken by Ghost's grip. Sensing a window of opportunity, Ghost shoved his Gauss Rifle right into Longfellow's stomach and fired the trigger. Old Longfellow's eyes went wide with shock and the smell of burnt leather and charred flesh quickly filled the air, as the Far Harbor native collapsed to the ground dead.

The Sole Survivor stood there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. Blood was pouring from his forehead and he was sure that he had sustained a mild concussion from getting hit in the head by a Ripper. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ghost bent down and picked up The Harvester.

"I'll be taking this." Ghost muttered, as he exited the cabin. "Compensation for trying to kill me."

* * *

"Greetings, Overboss Ghost; I am Farenz." A Disciple Raider announced, nodding his head. "Was your trip to Far Harbor successful?"

The Sole Survivor exited his boat, wincing as pain shot through his shoulder and stomach, before he examined the docks. Five Disciples were currently standing in front of him, all wearing the usual Disciple gear. The Disciple who had spoken was the only one not wearing a mask, showing off his face.

"Greetings, Disciple Farenz." Ghost muttered, looking at the group in front of him. "Strange that you are here; only a privileged few knew of my mission."

"Nisha sends her regards, Overboss." Farenz answered, a wide grin appearing on his face. "She says enjoy dy-"

Farenz's message was cut short, as he found The Harvester being shoved into his throat. The Disciple started croaking in pain, as his airway was flooded with blood. Ghost grabbed the dying man and used him as a human shield, before he started firing his Gauss Rifle.

He managed to take down two of the Disciples, causing their heads to explode in bloody messes. The remaining Disciples fired their weapons, but were mostly hitting Farenz. The dying Disciple finally stopped breathing, as a flurry of bullets punctured his chest.

Ghost aimed his Gauss Rifle, before pulling the trigger. A Disciple was sent crumpling to the ground, her chest turned to ash. The final Disciple looked at his dead colleagues, before throwing his weapon away and raising his hands in the air.

"Don't shoot me, please!" The Disciple begged, a horrified look evident on his face. "I surrender."

The Sole Survivor let out an annoyed grunt, as he let Farenz's corpse crumple to the ground and he marched towards the final Disciple. The Vault 111 native examined this snivelling man in silence, before suddenly kicking him hardly in the kneecap. The Disciple screamed in pain, as his knee bone broke and he collapsed to the ground.

"You will tell me everything you know, you worm." Ghost stated coldly, as he bent down to look the man in the eye. "I want every single detail that you have locked up in that puny brain of yours. And if you do do that, your death will be painless. If not…..well, the body has over 300 bones and I've got nothing else to do today. I'd be perfectly content to snap every single bone in your body slowly and methodically, while I wait for you to tell me everything you know."

"Please, don't!" The Disciple whimpered, a pleading look in his eyes. 'I'll tell you everything!"

"Good." Ghost answered, a small smile appearing on his face. "Now start talking."

 **And Chapter 11 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to give a massive shout-out to Alexeij, for not only reviewing this story but also helping me out with future plotlines to this story. You are awesome, Alex! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter.**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: X6-88

 **Well, it's been a while hasn't it? Life has just been kind of busy and I haven't had much chance to sit down and write my stories. But I'm back and ready to continue. Anyway, hope you guys and gals enjoy this Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

The Courser called X6-88 opened the door to Home Plate and strode into the room, a neutral look evident on his face. The Sole Survivor was currently sitting on his bed, quiet anger bubbling behind his cold eyes. Curie was tending to his wounds, muttering in French underneath her breath, while Mags and William Black stood to the side, sharing looks of nervousness.

"Sir, I came as soon as I heard." X6-88 announced, a cool tone to his voice. "What has happened?"

"I was correct in my assumption that Longfellow was still alive. He has been dealt with, albeit with a bit of difficulties." Ghost muttered, as he remembered the events of yesterday. "I was then jumped by a group of Disciples, who attempted to assassinate me."

"Things are now starting to make sense." X6 stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nisha and a few of her highest ranking Disciples have disappeared, apparently setting up camp at Vault 95."

"So she has been planning a coupe against me?" Ghost responded, eyebrow raised. "I should not be surprised; the woman was an animal and only cared about fuelling her blood lust."

"But why would she betray you?" Mags asked, a frown on her face.

"She must have thought that she might end up like Mason; cannon fodder for one of my future plans." The Sole Survivor responded, a cool tone to his voice. "While I had no immediate plans to remove Nisha, she was too much of a dangerous variable to be kept alive."

"Should we send Tessa and Baker after them?" William inquired, looking around the room. "That Vault 95 used to be a Gunner base, after all."

"No, that won't be necessary." Ghost said, shaking his head. "X6, you are to teleport into that Vault with a group of Coursers. You have orders to kill everyone there, except for Nisha. If possible, try and bring her back alive."

The Courser nodded his head, before turning around and exiting the room. A tense silence slowly filled the air, as The Sole Survivor had a thoughtful look on his face.

"This is most worrisome." Ghost finally stated, breaking the silence. "I was foolish to place faith in Raiders, no offence Blacks. My government is slowly weakening, and damage control is desperately needed. I need people that I can trust, which is unfortunately a commodity that is in short supply."

"So who do you suggest Boss?" Mags asked, eyebrow raised

"Well, there is someone." Ghost muttered, subconsciously rubbing at his forehead. "A certain Institute scientist called Dr Madison Li."

"Is she trustworthy?" Mags inquired

"She betrayed the Brotherhood of Steel by joining up with The Institute, and handed us the killcode to Liberty Prime." Ghost responded, a cold smile appearing on his face. "She can't leave The Commonwealth, for fear of being tried as a war criminal and hung. So yes, she is most likely trustworthy."

* * *

Paladin Danse stood on the deck of the Prydwen, examining the land below, this place called Nuka World. Before it was some kind of entertainment placed, used to bring smile on children's faces. Now it was a shrine to brutality and monsters. A small sigh escaped his lips, as he considered the decision he had just decided.

"Are you alright, Paladin?" A voice inquired from behind.

Danse turned around and felt a small smile appear on his face as he met a friendly face. Scribe Haylen walked towards the deck, looking down below at Nuka World.

"I'm just wondering whether I am making the right choice, Haylen." Danse admitted, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "The lives of so many people currently hang in the balance, that I wonder whether it's worth sacrificing them."

"Danse, The Sole Survivor has joined forces with Raiders and razed Goodneighbour to the ground. He may have saved your life and you two may have been friends, but you need to do what is right."

"I know, Haylen. I just wish this could've been dealt with peacefully. Ghost was my friend; someone who I was quite close with. He was the one who saved me, when Maxson and the rest of the Brotherhood was hunting me down like a dog."

"And he then proceeded to kill Maxson, his entire squadron of Brotherhood Paladins and anyone that dared disagree with him. Face it Paladin, but The Sole Survivor is no better than these animals down below."

"…..Let us attack, then." Paladin Danse stated, a firm tone to his voice. "Ad Victoriam, Haylen."

"Ad Victoriam, Paladin." Haylen answered, a wide grin on her face.

 **And Chapter 12 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to personally thank Solivore for being a wonderful human being, and Alexeij for helping me write this story. Alexeij is also a writer and has written Fallout stories. So please, go and give his stories a look! Anyway, hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!  
**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	13. Interlude I

Interlude 1: Nisha

 **I am just taking a short break from the main storyline, just to show what's happening with Nisha and the Disciples. I'd like to thank Alexeij, for somewhat inspiring this concept. Also, Alexeij is a Fallout writer and is one I highly recommend. You should definitely give his stories a read. Anyway, hope you guys and gals enjoy!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda. If I did own Fallout, I'd have made it garbage.**

Nisha, the leader of the Disciples and one of the most sadistic Raiders that had ever existed, felt fear.

This was something she very rarely felt anymore; in all honesty, she didn't feel much anymore. She felt bloodlust, hunger and joy when she was cutting up a victim but besides that, the Disciples Leader was mostly dead inside. But right now, her stomach was tied up in knots and her chest felt like it was gonna cave in on itself. It might have been decades since she personally felt it, but she knew it was fear. She had struck that feeling into way too many people to not know what it is.

The reason for this feeling was currently gagged and tied-up to a chair; that ginger bitch who acted like top dog in the Combat Zone. Instead of killing her like they had done to that Ghoul and most of the other fighters, they had kept this bitch alive as a last case scenario; use her as a bargaining chip, in case everything went to hell.

Nisha just looked on silently, as the ginger bitch struggled against her restraints. Some of the more…primal members of her group had tried to mess around with their captive, to claim her as property of the Disciples. But Nisha stopped them dead in their tracks, literally. Put bullets in all of their heads. What they had already done was a death sentence. But to do _that_ to one of the Overboss's closest friends? That would just lead to a fate worse than death. And quite honestly, Nisha shuddered to think what that bastard would do to the group if he found out anything had happened to his ginger bitch.

As Nisha was left to her thoughts, everything went straight to hell. The sounds of gunfire and screaming filled the air, snapping Nisha from her thoughts. She quickly withdrew her Disciples Blade and Plasma Gun, as she slowly backed up. As she was backing up, she bumped into something. Something warm.

Before Nisha could respond properly, intense pain flooded throughout her body. A scream escaped her lips, as she collapsed to the ground and her vision became blurry. The last thing she saw before unconsciousness consumed her was that damn Courser friend of the Overboss, sunglasses and all.

* * *

X6-88 looked down at the unconscious form of his target, the leader of the Disciples. But then he looked over at the restrained Cait, and felt a frown cross his face. The restrained female looked generally healthy, albeit one or two bruises and small cuts. Confusion appeared on the Courser's face as he removed Cait's gag.

"Fucking bitch cunt!" Cait growled, spitting on Nisha's unconscious form. "Fucking whore killed Tommy and most of the fighters, before fucking kidnapping me! Like I'm some kinda barganin' chip!"

"How are you still alive?" X6 inquired, looking down at Cait. "The Disciples are not known to be merciful to their captives."

"Ya think I'm in league with these nutjobs?! You're fucking mental, synth!"

"Answer my question, Cait."

"That bitch Nisha didn't wan' me injured; said that Ghost would've gone fucking mental if somethin' happened to me. That good enough for ya?"

"That is acceptable. We shall return to Sanctuary, with Nisha as a prisoner."

"Can I break her kneecaps?"

"We will have to wait for Ghost to return, before we do anything to her."

"You're such a killjoy, synth."

 **And Interlude 1 of TDRUT is done and dusted. I'd like to give a massive thank you to Alexeij, for being an absolutely awesome reviewer. Thanks so much, mate! Anyway, hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Ada

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

A frustrated sigh escaped Isabel Cruz's lips, as she rubbed at her neck. Wrapped tightly around her throat was a slave collar, a constant reminder that she was not free. She was no longer a person; she was now property. And she was the property of the most sadistic person in The Commonwealth, the man who called himself Ghost.

She looked at her surroundings; this used to be her lair, The Mechanist's Lair. But now it was just another conquered area of The Sole Survivor's great empire. Anger bubbled within her chest, as she remembered that fateful day; her robot army squashed by Ghost and his army of Synths and Raiders; Her Mechanist helmet crushed beneath his boot, as the collar was placed around her neck; Those Raiders, trying to….claim her, before being dealt with by Ghost. Her fists were clenched tightly, as she struggled to hold back tears.

"Why have you stopped working?" An electronic voice inquired, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room. "These robots need to be built."

Isabel whipped her head around, to come face to face with Ada. Painted a deep blue and looking vaguely Assaultron-like, Ada had been one of the first companions to swear allegiance to Ghost and his new government. Isabel just looked at the robot, and all she saw was Ghost.

"I'm done working." Isabel stated firmly, hands balled into tight fists. "I need to rest."

"That is not an option, Slave Cruz. Your occupation is to continue building robots for The Sole Survivor's army, and that is what you must be doing. Any other option would go against the prime directive; to serve The Sole Survivor."

"This is inhumane, Ada. I need to take a break. I've been working all day!"

"And as you should, Slave Cruz. That means you're serving the prime directive; to serve The Sole Survivor."

Isabel was clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. She didn't know why but this great deal of anger bubbling within her, coursing through her veins and making her feel particularly violent.

"FUCK THE PRIME DIRECTIVE!" Isabel shouted, her voice reverberating throughout the underground chambers. "FUCK THIS ROBOT ARMY, FUCK THIS GOVERNMENT, FUCK YOU AND FUCK THE SOLE SURVIVOR!"

"…..that borderlines on treasonous behaviour, Slave Cruz. Do I need to discipline you?"

"Go ahead, you fucking robot! I don't care anymore! I'm not a fucking person; I'm just property, according to you monsters! This is inhumane! Only a sick fuck would let this happen!"

"You must work, Slave Cruz."

"MY NAME IS ISABEL! I'm not a piece of machinery! I'm a human being! I am not property; I am my own person!"

A tense silence filled the air, as Isabel glared at the robot. Ada just stood there silently, seemingly examining Isabel. After what seemed like an eternity the silence was finally broken, but not by either of the two women present. But rather, by the sound of someone clapping their hands.

"I applaud you, Miss Cruz. While that speech may not have been eloquent, it was truly passionate and came from the heart. Truly, you do have the makings of becoming a great orator."

Isabel and Ada turned to the entrance, to find a small group there. A woman in a dirty lab coat and a blonde woman in black was standing near the entrance, with The Sole Survivor standing front and centre. A small smile was on his face, as he looked at Isabel. The former Mechanist felt her heart plummet to her feet, as she looked at her captor; she had just said Ghost could go fuck himself. This was definitely not going to end well for her.

"S-Sole Survivor Ghost." Isabel muttered, slowly backing away. "I didn't mean that, what I just said. I've just been going stir crazy in here, I said some things I didn't mean, Ada's been a bitch. Please don't kill m–"

Suddenly, in what was the blink of an eye, The Sole Survivor was standing right in front of Isabel. A terrified squeak escaped Cruz's lips, as she shut her eyes tightly. She felt Ghost's hand brush against her neck, before it removed itself. A loud beeping sound filled the air, before her throat felt…less constricted.

Confused, Cruz lifted her hands to her neck. Instead of feeling cold metal, she felt warm flesh. Isabel opened her eyes and began to examine herself. To her immense surprise, she wasn't missing any limbs or bleeding profusely anywhere. The Sole Survivor stood silently in front of Isabel, an unlocked slave collar in his hands.

"Due to a change in government, I have reconsidered my stance on slavery." Ghost explained, as he crushed the slave collar in his hand. "It is now banned, and all slaves are now currently being freed. Anyone who refuses to accept this new change in laws…shall be dealt with, harshly."

"B-but why?" Isabel muttered, hands still rubbing at her neck.

"Two reasons, actually. Reason one is that the I only allowed slavery to appease two of my inner circle. Now that they've been dealt with, I no longer need slavery. Reason two is that slavery is only a short-term solution; in the long run, it would definitely cripple my government. Sooner or later, slaves will grow restless and want more privileges, to be treated as equals to their slavers. And then they will rebel, causing chaos. And right now, chaos is something I do not need."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Basically, you are now a very vital cog in this machine I call a government. I will need the production of robot soldiers to at least triple as soon as possible."

"Triple!?"

"Yes, triple. But have no fear; I am sending everyone that has a basic understanding of robotics to this Lair, to help you out. I also have brought Dr Madison Li with me, to help production and ensure things are running smoothly."

The woman in the dirty lab coat nodded her head at that, a tired look evident on her face. Isabel couldn't help but feel slightly anxious, as she looked at the woman; the name seemed somewhat familiar, but Isabel wasn't sure why.

"The reason for this increase is quite simple, Isabel. The Prydwen has cut off all radio contact with The Commonwealth, and Raider Radio has fallen silent. This is extremely worrying, especially coupled with the fact that RedEye transmitted a distress signal before radio contact was disrupted."

Ghost then lifted his arm up and began fiddling around with his Pip-Boy, twisted knobs and pressing buttons. After a few minutes, a voice could be heard coming from the Pre-War technology:

" _Well - in case you ain't heard, things have gone from bad to totally screwed! That damn Brotherhood blimp has gone mental, firing shells at any Raider that moves! To make it clear, the Brotherhood has turned on us and our damn Overboss ain't here to help! The rest of you wanna try and fight them, go right on ahead. Me? I'm getting the hell out of here! Consider this your official notice that Raider Radio is off the damn air - FOREVER! Wait, what? Oh fuc-!"_

A tense silence filled the air, as the message looped itself. Everyone looked at each other, unsure of what to say. After what seemed like an eternity, Ghost finally broke the silence.

"I believe this is war." Ghost muttered, an ice-cold look in his eyes. "And if Danse believes I am not prepared for war, then he is sorely mistaken. Mags, prepare yourself; we are heading to Nuka-World."

 **And Chapter 13 of TDRUT is done and dusted! I'd like to give a massive thank you to Alexeij, for helping me out with this story. He is also a Fallout writer, and is currently writing two stories for Fallout! Please, go and give his stuff a read; if you liked this story, you'll love his stuff. Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	15. Interlude II

Interlude II: Gunners

 **Welcome, to Interlude II of TDRUT! First of all, I did not come up with this concept; I was heavily inspired by the amazing Alexeij. He's also a Fallout writer, and one I highly recommend. Anyway, I hope you guys and gals enjoy the second Interlude!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

While war was brewing towards the north, all was quiet in the south. Quincy, once a ruined hideout for the Gunners, was now the second largest settlement in The Commonwealth after Diamond City. While Gunners and Settlers went about their business, inside the church a tense silence filled the air. The four occupants inside eyed each other warily, unsure of what to do next.

"Why are we here, synth?"

The person who had spoken was a woman, with silvery hair and a scowl on her tanned face. She wore a Power Armour frame, with only a T-51 chestplate and a Raider arm affectionately nicknamed 'Tessa's Fist'. This was Tessa, one of the leaders of Quincy.

"The Sole Survivor has changed one of his laws, regarding slavery and the possession of slaves." X6-88 stated, a calm tone to his voice.

"What's this about slaves?" A new voice grunted.

A man was sitting on the steps that lead to the pulpit, a Fat Man lying next to him. Decked out in Heavy Combat Armour and an Ushanka hat, Baker was definitely not a man to be trifled with.

"As of yesterday, slavery is now banned in The Commonwealth." X6-88 answered, looking at the occupants of the room. "All slaves are to freed, all slave collars are to be destroyed and that severe punishment shall be dealt out to those who refuse to change."

The final occupant stepped forward, a scowl on his heavily lined face. With blonde hair that was thinning and a body that was heavily scarred, Bullet was someone who had seen a lot in his lifetime. He had been chosen as the third leader of Quincy, after Clint's execution.

"This ain't fair, synth." Bullet growled, walking towards X6. "Slavery is one of The Gunner's biggest money-makers. Take that away from us, and we stand to lose lots of caps!"

"This is not my decision, Bullet." X6 answered, turning around. "This is what the Survivor has decreed."

As the Institute Courser turned to leave, he felt a hand clutch tightly as his shoulder. Bullet whipped X6 around, staring the synth right dead in the eye. A tense silence quickly filled the air, as everyone froze.

"This ain't right, not at all." Bullet stated firmly. "Go tell your precious boss that the Gunners ain't at all happy with this decision."

X6 just stood there silently, seemingly processing this information. After what seemed like an eternity, X6 dashed forward and gripped Bullet's wrist tightly. A loud cracking sound filled the air, as the bones in Bullet's hand were crushed. The Gunner screamed his lungs out as he collapsed to the floor in a heap, clutching his broken hand gingerly.

"That was a warning; Institute Coursers are not to be touched." X6 stated calmly, ignoring Bullet's screams. "Next time, I won't be so merciful."

With that X6-88 turned around and exited the church, not even bothering to look back.

* * *

Night-time had fallen, casting Quincy in pale moonlight. Most people had fallen asleep, except for two people currently standing on the ruined highway above Quincy.

"This isn't good." Tessa said, a frown on her face. "This Survivor has got us by the balls, and we can't do nothing about it."

"We could revolt." Baker muttered, shrugging his shoulders. "Quincy is a fortress; could hold out for a while, before back-up came."

"That's what Clint said, after we took over Quincy. Said the Minutemen were dead and the Gunners would take over The Commonwealth."

"Guy was an idiot; only cared about being on the winning side. Ain't our fault he got greedy one too many times."

"Yeah, but that fucker screwed everyone over. The Gunners have been broken, Clint's head is now on a fucking spike, and we have to obey whatever demands that damn Survivor wants. This is fucked."

"….There's always another option."

"What option? Cause right now, I don't see any."

"We could leave The Commonwealth."

"….."

"The Capital Wasteland is just next-door. Ain't no-one has heard about the Gunners, or if they have, don't know anything about us being leaders. All they know is Clint the Traitor; no-one talks about us. We could just slip away and start over."

"Wouldn't The Survivor notice us leaving?"

"Not if he's distracted by other things. I've been tuning into Raider Radio, hearing about what's been happening in Nuka World. Place has gone to shit, and the Survivor would be too damn distracted fixing that shithole up. Too distracted to notice two people leaving on a caravan."

"What about the Gunners? We're the leaders here."

"The way I see it, it's survival of the fittest. We could stay here, and possibly end up like Clint. Or we could make a break for it, and try to start over."

"….When would we leave?"

 **And Interlude II for TDRUT is done and dusted! I'd like to give a massive thank you to Solivore, hopelessromantic34 and Alexeij for being amazing reviewers! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	16. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Strong

 **Would you look at that? TDRUT is now officially on the verge of completion. Literally, there's only two more Chapters after this, before I can say this story is over. It's kinda bittersweet, isn't it? Anyway, enough about me and my feelings. Let us begin the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

"Oh god." Mags Black muttered, horror evident to her tone.

The Operator leader examined her surroundings, shocked at what she saw. Buildings crumbling to the ground, bodies littering the ground and fires everywhere. The Pyrdwen hovered above all this carnage, like some kind of vengeful god. She felt someone grip her hand and she didn't need to turn around to know that it was her brother.

"Alright, this is my plan!" Ghost announced, his voice revibrating throughout the area. "Mags and William, round up as many Raiders as you can! Take them to the power plant and secure the area; if we control the power plant, then we can maintain some order! I already sent Strong and some of his Super Mutants there, so you'll have back-up."

"Super Mutants?" William asked, a frown on his face.

"Just say 'Milk of Human Kindness." Ghost muttered. "Strong will let you through."

"What are you gonna do?" Mags inquired.

The Sole Survivor slowly turned, an unreadable look evident to his face. He then started fiddling around with the Pip-boy on his wrist before letting out a satisfied grunt. Suddenly, Ghost was enveloped in intense blue lights before disappearing with a loud _crack!_ Mags just stood there shocked, trying to figure out what she had just saw. She then felt someone tugging at her sleeve.

"Come on sis, let's move out!" William pleaded. "No point in staying here and getting killed!"

* * *

Strong stood at the front of the Power Plant, a wide grin plastered on his sickly-green face. The corpses of dead Brotherhood soldiers were littered everywhere, their blood staining the ground beneath. Strong looked at this corpses, a deep hunger appearing in his eyes. It had been a while since his last feast, and he was sure Ghost wouldn't mind if he had a quick snack….

"Super Mutant, we need your help!" A female voice rang out. "The Sole Survivor sent us here to help!"

Strong whipped his head around, already lifting his Assault Rifle. A woman and a group of people were marching towards the Power Plant, looking weak.

"STOP, HUMANS!" Strong bellowed. "STRONG WILL KILL!"

"Milk of human kindness!" The woman shouted, a scared tone to her voice. "Just please, don't shoot!"

Strong just stood there, examining the group, before slowly lowering his weapon. A relieved sigh escaped Mags' lips, as she slowly walked forward. A look of distrust was evident in the Super Mutant's eyes, as he glared at Mags and her group.

"Ghost sent you to help Strong and Strong's army." Strong grumbled. "Strong told to defend place; was told it was important. Strong and army fight men in metal! We kill men in metal! We prove Super Mutants better than men in metal!"

"Good to hear, Super Mutant Strong." Mags answered, nodding her head. "My people are injured and hungry; you wouldn't possibly have any food or Stimpacks on hand?"

"Plenty food; enough to last long time. Strong can share." Strong growled. "No medicine; sign of weakness. Super Mutants rather die than show weakness."

"Fuck." Mags muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Alright, let's just hope Ghost deals with this problem quickly."

"Ghost is strong, like Super Mutant!" Strong stated wisely. "Ghost will kill flying metal ship!"

* * *

Paladin Danse stood at the viewing room within the Prydwen, where Elder Maxson had made his speeches and decisions on how to handle the Brotherhood. Two Brotherhood soldiers, both wearing T-60 Power Armour, stood guard near the entranceway. Suddenly, the sound of rushing footsteps filled the air.

"What are the current statistics, Scribe Haylen?" Paladin Danse inquired, a tired tone to his voice.

"We've lost 15% of our infantry in attacks on Nuka-World and the Prydwen is now running at only 85% capacity." Haylen answered. "The good news is that nearly 50% of Nuka World has been destroyed and that they have sustained roughly 63% casualties. If we can keep this up, then we will surely destroy Nuka World."

"Good news, Scribe." Danse stated, nodding his head. "Let us just hope our luck holds out."

Scribe Haylen smiled and nodded her head, before turning around and rushing out of the room. A small sigh escaped Danse's lips, as he examined the carnage that was unfolding outside of the Prydwen. Just when he was about to sit down, he heard something; the sound of a woman gasping, before quickly being silenced. The Brotherhood Paladin whipped his head around, energy weapon already whipped out and aimed.

"You see, that's the thing about luck." The Sole Survivor stated, his voice reverberating throughout the chamber. "It's not a sure thing; it can change in an instant. You can go from being the luckiest man in the room to being penniless and destitute, in a matter of seconds."

Scribe Haylen laid crumpled on the floor, her back to Danse. A puddle of blood was slowly forming near her head area, basically confirming her death. Ghost marched into the room, a smile on his world-weary face. The Brotherhood soldiers were already aiming their Miniguns at Ghost, as they slowly walked forward.

"You've been a naught boy, Danse." Ghost continued. "I trusted you, and this is how you repay my trust? By blowing up my home and killing my army?"

"Haylen." Danse muttered, horror evident in his tone. "You bastard!"

"I would have let her live, Danse. Honestly I would have." Ghost responded, shrugging his shoulders. "But she was going to call out to you and ruin my big reveal; as such, she needed to die."

"This ship is filled with Brotherhood soldiers, Ghost!" Danse announced. "You'll be dead before you even exit this room!"

"Ah, but I have planned ahead." The Sole Survivor answered, as he showed off something in his hand. "I released these all over the Prydwen."

The Brotherhood Paladin looked at the object in Ghost's hand; it was small and grey, with a red symbol painted in the middle. It took Danse a few seconds, before a feeling of dread washed over him.

"That's….."

"A synth relay grenade." Ghost answered, a wide grin on his face. "Right now there are hundreds of synths running around the Prydwen, killing every Brotherhood soldier they see. Pretty soon, they'll kill everyone and take over this ship. And as for you? You'll be hanging from the highest yardarm."

"If this means the end of the Brotherhood, then I will take you down with me!" Danse shouted, fury evident to his tone. "Ad Victoriam!"

 **And so we end on a cliffhanger! I know, I'm evil. I'd like to thank my friends hopelessromantic34, Solivore, Jacob Sailer and Alexeij for being awesome friends and reviewers. Thanks a lot, guys! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at Chapter 15: Paladin Danse.**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Paladin Danse

 **Welcome everyone, to Chapter 15! I promise you, this'll knock your socks off! Anyway, let us begin!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

"Strong bored." Strong grumbled, anger evident to his tone. "Fighting stopped! Need more fight!"

Mags Black suppressed an annoyed grunt, as she glared at the Super Mutant. The Brotherhood contingency had fallen back about 20 minutes ago and the Prydwen had stopped firing shells soon after. Both the Raider army and Super Mutant army were currently waiting for Ghost to return, or at least some sign that everything was alright. Tension was thick in the air, so thick that even a blunt knife could pierce it.

"We have to wait Strong." William sighed. "Ghost said we have to defend this place and that's what we're gonna do until the Overboss returns."

"But Strong bored!" Strong growled. "Need to do something! Fight, kill, eat! Anything!"

"There's a ton of Brotherhood corpses outside." William muttered, gesturing outside. "I'm sure you can have a feast out there."

"Live food better; need to kill." Strong grumbled. "Heart beat, blood pour, food screaming! That best for Super Mutant!"

"Strong, that's not possible; we don't have any Brotherhood prisoners." William continued, letting out an annoyed grunt. "So unless you want to go hunt some Radstag or something it ain't like—why are you looking at me like that?"

"Strong hungry. Strong needs live food."

"Fuck off, mutie! You're not eating me!"

Before the conversation could continue to deteriorate, a loud _crack!_ filled the air. Strong and the Black siblings whipped their heads around to the source of the noise, wondering what the hell was going on. A blue light quickly disappeared, and standing in its place was The Sole Survivor. His X-01 Power Armour was stained with blood and bits of bone, and his left eye was closed shut and bruised. But kneeling next to him was Paladin Danse, sans his Power Armour and weapons. His Brotherhood outfit was covered in rips and cuts, with blood staining the material. His face was covered in bruises and an air of sorrow smothered the man.

"I have brought spoils of war!" Ghost announced, a hint of pride to his voice. "The Brotherhood is now no more. We are now unopposed and are free to take control of The Commonwealth!"

With that Ghost lifted up his left hand, showing a small device with a button on top. The Sole Survivor glanced down at Danse, before pressing the button. Almost immediately, a loud thunderous _BOOM_ reverberated throughout the area. The Prydwen was engulfed in flames and smoke, as it slowly began to sink to the ground. Danse visibly flinched and began to cry in silence, as the Prydwen went down in flames. The Raiders and Super Mutants just watched, as the Prydwen hit the ground and exploded in a fiery ball.

A tense silence filled the air, before it being quickly shattered by a thunderous applause. A wide grin was plastered on Ghost's face, as he stood there and soaked up all the adulation. Mags couldn't help but feel a small smirk appear on her face, as she looked at Ghost. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him this happy; heck, she doubted she had ever seen him this happy before.

"Strong, get your Mutants and have them scour Nuka-World!" Ghost continued. "William, I need you to hack into Raider Radio and send news of our glorious victory over the Brotherhood; the password to get in is 'Scarecrow'. Mags, you can take Danse; I no longer have any need of this traitor. I need to contact The Institute and see if any new developments have happened while I was gone."

The Sole Survivor walked off, fiddling around with his Pip-boy. Mags slowly walked over to the kneeling figure of Paladin Danse. He hadn't even moved since appearing, instead just silently crying over the death of his people. As Mags placed her hand on Danse's shoulder, she saw him reaching into his boot for something. Before she could stop him, Danse suddenly sprung upwards and grabbed Mags by the hair, before placing a Combat Knife to her neck.

"Stop this, Ghost!" Danse shouted. "I won't hesitate to kill this woman!"

The area fell deathly silent, as they quickly pointed their weapons at Danse. The Sole Survivor whipped his head around, a flash of concern appearing in his eyes.

"Drop your weapons everyone!" Ghost barked out, anger evident to his tone. "For fuck's sake, listen to me!"

Everyone stood stock still, slightly shocked by Ghost's use of profanity. After what seemed like an eternity, everyone slowly lowered their weapons. A tired sigh escaped Ghost's lips, before looking straight ahead. Danse's hand was clutching tightly at Mags' hair, the other pointing a knife straight at her jugular. A thin trickle of blood was dripping down her neck, and fear was evident in Mags' face.

"Danse, don't do this." Ghost muttered, eyes focused on Danse. "Don't you dare do this."

"I've just lost everything, Survivor." Danse growled. "My family, my order, my beliefs….Haylen. In a matter of an hour, I have lost everything I ever cared about, all because of you. Now I'm gonna take something that you care about!"

"That's my sister, Ghost!" William shouted, eyes wide with fear. "Don't you fucking dare let anything happen to her!"

"Shut up, Black!" Ghost fired back. "I'm trying to defuse the situation!"

"168." Danse interrupted. "That's how many people were on the Prydwen right now. 21 of them were just children!"

"Please, let me just say one thing!" Ghost pleaded, tears brimming in his eyes. "Just please, don't stab her!"

Paladin Danse just stood there silently, eyes burrowing into Ghost. After what seemed like ages, Danse slowly removed the pressure of the Knife on Mags' neck, before nodding his head. A smile appeared on Ghost's face, as he let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Danse." Ghost continued. "You are truly a good man."

"What is it you wish to say?" Danse stated, a hint of anger to his tone. "And it had better be important, because I am prepared to kill this Raider scum and take her with me to hell."

"You don't have the guts to kill Mags." Ghost stated firmly, venom, dripping from every word.

"What are you doing!?" Mags shouted.

"Before, when you were Paladin Danse, I'd have believed you." Ghost continued, ignoring Mags. "But now, as M7-97? I highly doubt your bloodlust. You're a shell of your former self; you lost that fire that made you a good soldier in Listening Post Bravo. You ran when the Brotherhood were hunting you and you continued running! The real Danse would've stayed his ground and fought back! You were perfectly content to just stay in the Prydwen, telling real people what to do and stay all safe and cozy up there in your airship. You became soft, weak! You're not Paladin Danse, Brotherhood member and soldier extraordinaire; you're just M7-97, a fraud. All you're good for is to be placed on a scrap heap, like all reject synths! Now put down that damn weapon and walk over here M7-97, and be the good little bitch that you are!"

Danse stood there silently, his knife hand shaking slightly. After what seemed like an eternity, he began to lower his hand. As Mags let out a sigh of relief, a bullet came flying past and hit Danse right in the shoulder. Almost immediately, the Brotherhood Paladin flicked his hand and sliced at Mags' neck.

The Operator leader collapsed to the floor, as bullets rained down on the injured Danse. Blood and guts went flying everywhere, as Danse collapsed onto the ground in a bloody heap. Mags' whole body felt numb, as blood was spurting from out of her wound. Time seemed to slow down and she only concentrated on the blood. The world started to spin and blackness enveloped her, as she saw Ghost rush towards her.

"I….I….." Mags mumbled, before falling into unconsciousness.

 **Another cliff-hanger, cause I am an asshole! I'd like to give a massive thank you to the wonderful Alexeij, for helping me with ideas for this story. I'd also like to give a massive thank-you to Solivore and hopelessromantic34 for reviewing my work! Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the final Chapter: Porter Gage.**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	18. Interlude III

Interlude III: Mags Black

 **I'm gonna admit it; I lied. I had to include this (hopefully final) Interlude, before we reach the final Chapter. This is an important bridging Chapter, one that deals with Nisha and a few other things. Anyway, enough out of me. Let us begin the Chapter!**

 **I do not own Fallout, that belongs to Bethesda.**

Mags slowly opened her eyes, a tired groan escaping her lips. All her joints felt sore and a dull throbbing was occurring in her head, which usually meant a migraine was on its way. The Operator leader blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the room. She looked down, to see herself lying in some kind of bed. What the hell had happened?

She remembered Nuka World, and it having something to do with Ghost and the Brotherhood bastards. But then…..Mags slowly shook her head, letting out a small grunt. It was all blurry and messed up for her. She tried to dreg those memories up from her memory banks, but her head just got even worse.

"Having trouble remembering?" A masculine voice inquired.

The Operator leader turned to her left, to see The Sole Survivor standing there. He wasn't wearing his military fatigues, nor his beloved X-01 Power Armour. He was wearing jeans and a grey shirt, with a lab coat thrown on top. There was just such a casual air to the Overboss, one she had very rarely seen before. Mags found the whole scene slightly bewildering and couldn't help but wonder if she had sustained some kind of head injury.

"I see you've notice my change in attire." Ghost continued. "I tend to dress more…. homely, here in the Institute. Makes the scientists here feel more relaxed. Well that, and I want my son to feel comfortable around me."

"…son?" Mags asked, her voice sounding incredibly hoarse.

"Please, don't talk. Your throat is still incredibly tender." Ghost answered. "Yes, I have a son. He's called Shaun and I love him, but we've seemed to have gotten off track here. We're supposed to be talking about your memories, or rather your sudden difficulty with them."

Mags just laid back in the bed, giving a small nod. She remembered bits and pieces; something exploding, her brother arguing with a Super Mutant, people dying….but she couldn't piece them together. At least, not in a coherent way.

"Alright, I shall help jog your memory." Ghost stated. "Paladin Danse and the rest of the Brotherhood turned on us and attacked Nuka World. Your brother, yourself and I travelled there to fight back. I entered the Prydwen and soundly defeated the Brotherhood, while your brother and yourself defended the Power Plant. The Prydwen was destroyed and I managed to return to the Power Plant unscathed, with Danse as my captive. Does any of this ring a bell so far?"

A small silence filled the air, as the Operator leader contemplated what she had just been told. It definitely did sound familiar, but no memories were leaping out at her. Just vague outlines in her mind.

"Paladin Danse then grabbed you and put a knife to your throat. He planned on killing you, as retribution for the deaths of all the Brotherhood soldiers." The Sole Survivor continued. "I then…. panicked. I didn't know what to do, for the first time in ages. I had no back-up plan, no trump card, no exit strategy. I just blanked badly."

"You….panic?" Mags croaked out, disbelief evident to her tone.

"As ashamed as I am to admit it, yes I did." Ghost answered, nodding his head. "Then, someone shot at Danse and he sliced your throat. He went down in a blaze of bullets, but you were bleeding very heavily. I managed to teleport you in time and make sure you received the best care possible. I will admit, you were on the verge of death and it was touch and go for a bit. You've been in an artificially induced coma for at least a fortnight. But the worst part is, your voice might suffer some alterations?"

"Alterations?" Mags asked hesitantly.

"Your vocal chords were affected slightly and in the haste to stop the bleeding, we didn't attend to them in time." Ghost admitted. "As such, your voice might become raspier. I'm so sorry, Mags."

"Where's…Will?"

"He's currently over at Quincy, dealing with the sudden disappearance of Baker and Tessa." Ghost explained. "I'm sorry, but the rest of the Directors point-blank refused to allow a Raider into their home. Said I was putting security at risk, even though I run the bloody place now. Self-absorbed eggheads, that's what they are."

A small smile appeared on Mags' lips, as she looked over at Ghost. The Sole Survivor picked up on the smile and gave one in return.

"Listen, you only have one more week left before I feel comfortable enough to discharge you." Ghost stated. "After that, I strongly suggest you don't do much speaking for at least a month, so you don't damage your vocal chords anymore. Listen, I hate to say this but I have to leave now. I swear, I need to give these people approval just to go to the toilet. But I promise you, I'll be back as soon as I'm free."

With that, The Sole Survivor nodded his head before exiting the room. The smile on his face quickly grew twisted and darker, as he examined the folder in his hands. The documents inside was research on the latest massive project for the Institute: Project Phoenix. If this was successful, it'd lead to a new age in scientific knowledge. A small chuckle escaped Ghost lips, as he marched throughout the Institute. The future definitely looked promising for The Sole Survivor and his government.

' _Let the good times roll.'_ The Sole Survivor thought with a chuckle.

 **And Interlude III of TDRUT is done and dusted! Massive thank you to Pinoy Gamer, Solivore and hopelessromantic34 for being amazing reviewers! I'd also like to thank Alexeij separately, for being an awesome friend and for helping me out so much. Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals at the next Chapter to TDRUT!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	19. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Porter Gage/The End

 **Welcome everyone, to the finale to The Darkness Rains Upon Them! Man, I can't believe we've finally done it. Sure has been a crazy ride, hasn't it? Still, I'm glad I stuck to it. This story has really helped prove that I have writing skills.**

"Is he waking up?"

"….it appears so, sir. It's truly remarkable; there was a high chance the experiment would fail."

"But it instead turned into a rousing success! Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend!"

Danse just laid there on the floor, blinking his eyes and trying to figure out what the hell was happening. He was dead; at least, he was sure he had died. He definitely remembered his body getting destroyed by all those bullets.

The Sole Survivor was currently towering over Danse, a wide grin on his battle-hardened face. An unknown scientist stood next to Ghost, a slightly nervous look in her eyes. Danse placed his hands on his head, as a tired groan escaped his lips.

"But….how…?"

"Are you still alive?" Ghost interrupted. "Simple; I brought you back to life, with the help of Project Phoenix."

"Project….Phoenix?" Danse inquired.

"To put it simply, I transferred all of your memories and personality into another synth." Ghost explained. "It was quite tricky, given we had to completely remove everything from the test synth and leave him basically catatonic, but it looks like things are a success so far."

Danse just laid there, a sense of horror slowly spreading through every inch of his body. He had been brought back to life? He wasn't Danse anymore; heck, he wasn't even synth Danse anymore. He was just a carbon copy, a pale imitation of the original.

"Why?"

"Again, simple." Ghost responded, smiling. "You're not going to escape your punishment that easily. I'm going to let you rot in this prison for the rest of your unnatural life span, slowly losing your sanity until you've fallen deep into madness. That is your punishment, for daring to challenge me and take my kingdom away from me. For now, you shall answer this young lady's questions, to see how much of your memories you've retained. As for me, I have some business to take care of."

With that, The Sole Survivor turned around and exited the room. Danse tried to get up, but found his legs just wouldn't work. The bottom of his stomach had fallen through and a sense of dread had built up within his chest. He wasn't a man any more, he wasn't even a synth anymore. He was just a copy, easily replaceable. Danse could feel the fire within him slowly peter out, before being extinguished entirely.

* * *

The Sole Survivor entered the room, a small smile on his face and a Power Fist attached to his right hand. Mags Black was leaning against a wall, flipping through an issue of Le Coiffe. The Operator leader gave Ghost a smile, before putting away the magazine and exiting the room.

Ghost watched Mags leave, before turning to the other occupant of the room. Strapped down to the gurney, his mouth gagged and fear in his eye, was Porter Gage. The Raider was struggling furiously, doing everything possible to escape his restraints.

"Ah, my dear Porter Gage." Ghost announced, a happy tone to his voice. "So good to see you again! Last I heard, you were trying to bribe your way onto a caravan heading to the Mojave Wastelands."

Porter Gage quickly shook his head, making pleading grunts. A small chuckle escaped Ghost's lips, as he slowly walked forward. Suddenly, he rushed forward and smashed the nearby wall. The steel crumbled like paper beneath his punch, causing Gage to let out muffled screams.

"Shut up Gage, no-one will help you." Ghost muttered, glaring at the Raider. "You're a coward and a traitor; as soon as you heard the Brotherhood had turned, you went running for the hills. You didn't call for back-up, you didn't inform you, nor did you try and take control of the situation. You just ran and ran, and you continued running when you figured out I'd be very angry with you for running. Many people died from your cowardice, Gage."

The Sole Survivor leant forward, until his nose was touching Gage's nose. The Raider looked into the ice-cold eyes of the Overboss and did something he hadn't done in ages; he began praying for mercy. After a few moments Ghost slowly moved away from Gage, before making his way to the end of the gurney.

"I'm not going to kill you; I need all the help I can get right now." Ghost explained. "But, you will suffer severe punishment."

The Sole Survivor untied Gage's legs and slowly spread them apart, before retying them. Gage, perhaps sensing what was about to happen, began struggling like there was no tomorrow and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"There's no point to that, Gage. Even without a gag, no-one would hear you; this whole room is sound proof." Ghost stated. "If you've hopes of having children, you can forget them now."

The Power Fist gave a slight whir as Ghost drew it back. Porter Gage screamed into his gag, praying someone would stop this.

No-one did.

* * *

It was night-time, and everyone else had gone to sleep in the Institute. Well, except for two people.

"Damn, that was cold-hearted." Mags muttered, rubbing at her neck.

Even though it had been at least two months since the incident, her throat still felt raw. The Sole Survivor was currently going through some drawers, the Power Fist laying on a desk. He had taken of his lab coat and shirt, showing off his scarred torso. Mags couldn't help but admire his body; it was quite muscular, but not overly so. The man definitely did take care of his body.

"It needed to be done, Mags." Ghost retorted. "Gage needs to know I will not accept that type of behaviour from him."

"Well, I think he's got the message. Especially since his nuts have been turned into puree." Mags said, a smirk on her face. "Anyway, I gotta head off back to Nuka-World. I'm tired as hell, and I need a bit of shut-eye."

As Mags turned to go, she caught Ghost's face. He looked…conflicted? Mags stopped in her tracks, confusion eating at her.

"Everything okay, Ghost?" Mags inquired.

The Sole Survivor stood silently for a few moments, possibly contemplating what he was going to say, before slowly walking forward. Mags couldn't help but feel confused, as she looked at Ghost; he seemed…vulnerable, almost. Like he had just dropped all of his defences.

"I was just thinking about the incident in the Power Plant, when Danse sliced your neck open." Ghost admitted, as he stood in front of Mags. "Just remembering all that blood and you, dying. It just…so many memories hit me. Of fellow soldiers, dying in battles. Of Nora, getting her head blown apart by Kellogg. Of Piper…dying. Just so much blood and death and to see you like that….it just got to me, badly."

"How come?" Mags inquired.

"Because I consider us close, Mags." Ghost admitted. "Out of everyone I know in this new government, you're one of the handful of people I can trust fully. And I appreciate your company a lot; you're brightly intelligent and have proven to be someone that greatly interests me."

"Um, you've told me all of this before sir." Mags responded, a frown on her face.

"But there's more." Ghost continued. "…things have changed, at least in how I view you. I've tried to bury this and keep it dead for a while but I've been struggling to, especially since your near death. I'm scared to lose you, because….I have developed feelings for you."

Mags just stood there silently, slightly stunned by what she was hearing coming out of Ghost's mouth. She knew that the two were at least friendly, but she definitely didn't consider that they could be _this_ close. She tried to think of how this could backfire on her, how this could screw things up greatly, but all she could think of was: why the fuck not?

"Still listening, Mags?" Ghost asked. "You seem to have drifted off there."

Instead of answering with words, Mags grabbed Ghost by the head and smashed her lips against his. The Sole Survivor stood there momentarily stunned, before returning the kiss with equal ferocity. A fire, one that he had long since considered extinguished, suddenly blazed within Ghost, as he wrapped his arms around Mags' waist. The two continued their passionate embrace for what seemed like eternity, before Ghost slowly backed away. Mags looked at the Overboss, a determined look evident in her eyes.

"Listen, I know what you're thinking. Yeah, things might not work out between us and we're making a mistake." Mags stated, reading Ghost's mind. "But just give it a chance. Let's just try tonight, and see what happens. If this spark is gone by tomorrow morning, we drop it and never speak of it again. But if that spark is still there….well, let's see what the future holds."

"Leaving things to chance isn't my style." Ghost retorted. "I prefer controlling things and having them planned out."

"Like how you controlled your feelings towards me?" Mags inquired, eyebrow raised.

"Touché." The Sole Survivor responded, a small smile on his face, before leaning in and kissing Mags.

 **And the final Chapter of TDRUT is done and dusted! I know some people may not like how I ended it, but quite frankly I'm content with it. Before I sign of for the last time, I'd like to thank a few people:**

 **First, thank you to Clegane, Morese, Pinoy Gamer and Jacob Sailer for reviewing this story. They were very much appreciated and I'm glad I got them.**

 **Thank you to Solivore, for being the first reviewer to this story and for being a good friend. Thanks so much, mate!**

 **Thank you to hopelessromantic34, for helping me early on in this story with suggestions and giving reviews. He definitely helped me out of a tight spot, and I'm glad he did.**

 **Last, but definitely not least, I give a massive thank you to Alexeij. I was introduced to him by a friend of mine, and he became a highly valuable reviewer and a very good friend. I also owe him the world, because he basically planned out most of this story! I will admit, it hasn't really been smooth sailing between us; I've caused quite a few fuck-ups between us and things have been strained, but Alexeij has always proved to be a good man and willing to deal with me and my problems. I am truly grateful I have him to help me and be my friend.**

 **And now, I thank my readers. I thank the thousands of silent fans who stuck by this story and read it, and for giving me the drive to continue. Thank you, one and all.**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


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